You’re not going to believe this: I was bitten by a fish yesterday while I was swimming–twice.

But here’s the unbelievable part: it bit my nipples. Both of them.

I’m not kidding.

I was in the water with the kids, floating lazily, when the blind little bastard chomped down; it hit me like an electric shock. My hands flew to the offended bodypart and I said something along the lines of “Gah!”

As I was recovering from the shock and beginning to formulate my tagline for the blog entry about pirhanas in Tennessee, the future fishstick did it again, gnashing on the opposite nipple and evoking a repeat performance from me.

After that I fled to the shallows where I hugged my knees to my chest and marveled at the surreal nature of what just happened. It took me a moment to realize that I was rocking and mumbling incoherently.

I shook off the fear and, to prove I wasn’t afraid of some pugnacious Perch, I swam out to the spot I was savaged, making bold strokes and pointedly displaying my nipples, daring any fish to try.

I think I heard laughing.


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